


From the Ashes A Fire Shall Be Woken

by Liontalon



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Massacre, Missing-nin Sakumo, Orphan Kakashi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Hatake Clan is from Kumo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liontalon/pseuds/Liontalon
Summary: After betrayal, a father is left with nothing; after being taken from home, a son is left without the knowledge of who he is. Separated, both must throw their energies into survival. One seeks revenge, the other seeks a family.





	From the Ashes A Fire Shall Be Woken

Blood. Smoke. Flame.

All stung his nose.

At the same time screams pierced his ears.

But all he could do was stare numbly at the carnage before him. _How could such a thing happen? Why? What had they done to deserve this?_ He tried to will his body into action, but it stayed stiff as a statue. His dark eyes reflected the flames below, uncomprehending.

This was wrong, so very wrong.

They were loyal to Kumo, they always had been.

And yet, here he was watching his clan get slaughtered by their former comrades. There was no warning, it had been a normal night until he’d been called to the Raikage’s office.

There, A had given him a calculating look, before telling him that he was one of Kumo’s best jounin. That it pained him to have to do this. When he questioned him, A had just glanced out the window toward the Hatake compound. Following the Raikage’s gaze, he saw a glow in the valley.

Dread filled him as he looked questioningly at the Third, who stared at him with a distant look in his eyes. In that moment, five Anbu appeared, surrounding him, each with a blade drawn. Realization hit the clan head like a stone –though the reasons eluded him.

Between one breath and the next, the Anbu struck.

He fought in a detached manner, allowing his body to react on instinct, drawing his tanto, blocking and dodging, all without truly processing the world. His focus was solely on the growing red glow in the window. He quickly dispatched the Anbu and dove through the window, fleeing toward his home.

Which lead him here. Frozen, as his family was cut down below.

It was chaos. There were people everywhere, shinobi, civilians… children. None were spared, not even their faithful hounds and their pups -who were leaping to take mortal blows meant for their masters.

The shinobi –after getting over the shock of being attacked in their homes -fought gallantly to protect the children and civilians. But they were horribly outnumbered. It seemed that A had sent the entirety of his Anbu, who didn’t hesitate to strike down those who just hours ago they would have called their friends.

An achingly familiar cry snapped his head around, a brown-haired woman wearing a nightgown was dashing across the street. She had a bundle of blankets clutched tightly to her chest. Her gown was scorched and bloodstained, her feet left bloody prints, but she kept running. Then her eyes found him, and she stumbled to a halt, her lips forming a word.

One that could hear despite her not making a sound.

_“Sakumo…”_

Then a blade burst through her chest and the bundle of blankets she held so dearly. Blood bloomed, soaking the blankets and her gown as she stood wide-eyed. Red foam started frothing at her mouth, as the blade was extracted. Then she fell, crushing the bloody bundle between her and the unforgiving ground.

Sakumo was moving before he realized it, tanto drawn leaving an arch of white, as a scream tore from his throat.

_“Tsuki!”_

The Andu’s head had been separated from his shoulders before he could process the new threat. The White Fang cut through his former allies without remorse, as he stood over his wife’s crumpled body. Suddenly, there was another being beside him, the wolf-dog’s fangs sunk deep into another Anbu’s throat. Giving them a short reprieve.

The dog was near unrecognizable, it’s white coat covered in soot and blood. One foreleg was drawn up to its chest, mangled by what looked like a lightning attack. But Sakumo would recognize his first dog anywhere.

“Tsurara.”

“Get out of here, Sakumo, there’s nothing left here, any survivors are being slaughtered as we speak! If we stay we’ll end up like them!” the dog snarled, eyes warily scanning for new threats.

“I can’t just leave them!”

“You have to, or you will die with them.”

“But Tsuki, and Kakashi!” he turned to his wife, a lump forming in his throat at her sightless brown eyes. Kakashi’s baby blanket stained with blood was peeking out from under her.

“There’s nothing you can do for them now!” his summon pleaded, her eyes sorrowful as she took in the body, “Nothing, besides living to get revenge. They will pay for this, for betraying the pack, but not now.”

Sakumo stared at his broken family, the image searing itself into his mind. Oh, they would pay, they would pay for killing his wife, his clan, his newborn son. They’d pay for crossing the White Fang. But Tsurara was right, not tonight, he would bide his time, and strike at the opportune moment.  

* * *

 

_Meanwhile_

Paws hit the forest floor heavily, panting could be heard between the otherwise silent trees.

Two forms could be seen dodging between trees and over upturned roots. Both were panting heavily, but one was slowing at a faster rate than the other. The cloth bound bundle in his jaws was weighing him down.

Finally, he slowed to a stop, gently placing the bundle on the ground before collapsing out of exhaustion. His companion, trotted back toward him in concern, before glancing around, deciding it was safe enough he sat beside the first and started licking his head to cool him.

“Rest, brother, we’re past the border,” he mumbled, as he cleaned the other dog.

“The pup,” the exhausted dog gasped out, “Daburu, how’s the pup?”

Daburu nosed the bundle, revealing soft silver hair and a tiny face. The baby was sleeping soundly, only scrunching up his face at the intrusion of Daburu’s cold nose.

“He’s fine, Toraburu, you put him right to sleep.”   

“Oh, good.”

“Sleep, brother.”

The two foxhounds slept until the baby’s soft cries woke them, both glanced at each other uneasily as the infant’s cries grew.

“What’s wrong?” Toraburu whined, nosing the infant worriedly.

“How should I know, he’s a human pup,” Daburu replied, licking the baby’s head.

“So, what do we do?”

“He needs to be with humans, we can’t care for him properly.”

“We can’t take him back!” Toraburu growled.

“Obviously,” Daburu snapped back, “No, we’ll take him where Kumo can’t follow.”

Toraburu looked thoughtful for a few moments, before nodding and pulling the cloth back into a position that he could carry the baby easily. Ignoring the infant’s cries the hounds picked up speed until they were dashing through the trees once more.

After a time, the baby’s cries lessened, before filtering off completely, which only caused the hounds to pick up speed. They ran until their paws bled, ignoring their needs for the infant’s. They pressed forward until night came once more, and they were stumbling over their paws.

Finally, Daburu drew to a sudden halt, nearly causing Toraburu to crash into him. With his mouth full of cloth, he could just whine hoping his littermate would understand his question. It took the other hound a long moment before he responded.

“I hear a baby crying,” he mumbled distractedly, changing direction.

Toraburu followed at a slower pace, mindful of his charge, who hadn’t made a sound since the previous night. They walked for a few minutes before coming to a break in the trees where a large building stood, and a village could be seen down a path. Toraburu whined again, slinking back into the shadows.

“It’s an orphanage, brother, they can care for him,” Daburu chided, stepping out.

Toraburu placed the baby on the ground, so he could voice his opinion more clearly.

“But will he be safe here?”

“We’re deep in Fire Country now, not that far from Konoha I presume. Kumo won’t look here, they won’t risk it.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Toraburu grumbled, “Walk up there and say, here have a baby. He’s only the clan heir to one of Kumo’s most feared clans; oh and by the way, Kumo might come looking for him and you might lose your head. No pressure.”

Daburu gave a long calculating look, before he sighed.

“So, what do you suggest, oh brilliant one?”

“Just listen, stubborn one.”

In the inky blackness of the dead of night, Toraburu cut across the open ground, his long legs easily making quick work of the distance. Reaching the front door, he carefully placed the bundle on the ground. Pleased with himself he stepped back, then lifted his head and let out a loud baying howl.

He continued until lights came on in the house, and the door was opened by a middle-aged woman.

“What in the name of Kami is going on out here?” she snapped.

As the door opened Toraburu stepped back further, wagging his tail. The woman’s gaze fell on him and her eyes narrowed.

“What do you want, you–” she cut herself off as she noticed the bundle at her feet, “What?”

She leaned down and picked the baby up, unwrapping the cloth she found herself looking into blue eyes. Eyes that immediately welled up with tears, and the baby let out a squalling cry. The woman started to hush the infant, rocking him back and forth soothingly.

“Where did you come from?” she muttered to herself, eyes turning back to Toraburu, “Did you bring him here?”

Toraburu barked, tail wagging, as a voice rose from the shadows of the trees.

“His name’s Kakashi.”

The woman jumped, stepping back into the safety of the building, looking closely into the darkness.

“Who’s there?”

“No one important, all you need to know is that the p– child’s name is Kakashi.”

“And where’s his parents?”

“Dead, as far as I’m aware,” the voice growled, “His mother tasked me with getting him to safety, I’m not equipped to take care of a child, so you’re the next best thing.”

“How’d they die?”

“Bandits, I’m assuming, I came across them on the road, take care of him.”

“What about the dog?”

“It was theirs I assume, it followed me here, there was another one earlier but I don’t know where it went.”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

She got no answer, after staring after the voice for a long moment she turned her attention to Kakashi, whose cries had grown.

“Alright, babe, hush, I’m sure you’re hungry,” she soothed rubbing the baby’s back, Toraburu started to follow them inside, only to be halted by the woman’s stern glare, “Stay.”

Toraburu sat expectantly, watching her, satisfied the woman carried the fussing infant into the building, closing the door behind her. After a few moments, Toraburu sighed and laid down settling his head on his paws. Ear twitching as Daburu settled beside him.

“So, how was that?”

“You talk too much,” Toraburu muttered.

“Like you could have done better,” Daburu huffed, “We did what Tsuki asked of us, so what now? We were never brought into a summoning contract, and there aren’t exactly any options left… what is our purpose in life without a summoner?”

“You’re wrong, Daburu, we have a summoner.”

“Who?”

Toraburu pointed his nose at the house, Daburu followed his gaze and stared wide-eyed at him.

“Kakashi? But he’s just a pup.”

“He won’t be forever, besides someone has to look after him.”

“So, what now?”

“You heard her, we stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!  
> First things first, I have no idea where this story is going, so dint expect very frequent updates. You know my new years revolution was that i would not post a multi chapter fic before it was finished, I've broken that rule. So I'm going to apologize in advance.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and yes I do seem to like putting the Hatake clan in Kumo, and yet it never ends well. Also, you may notice in most -if not all- of my fics Kakshi is the main character, that's probably going to stay. Most of my fic ideas revolve around Team Minato's era.  
> Thanks for reading, hopefully the next chapter won't be a year from now or so short.


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